


One Big Happy Family

by HPfanatic12



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU ish, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff, Fred Weasley Lives, Gen, Good Percy Weasley, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, One Big Happy Weasley Family (Harry Potter), POV Percy Weasley, Percy Weasley Needs a Hug, Percy Weasley Redemption, Percy Weasley-centric, Post War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPfanatic12/pseuds/HPfanatic12
Summary: “I don’t deserve to be here,” he mumbled.“What? What did you-”“I don’t deserve to be here!”He didn’t even realize that he was trembling, or that his mum’s hand had flown to her mouth, or that his dad bowed head his, or that his siblings looked almost emotionless. Percy crumbled to the floor, his face buried in his palms and his knees pulled up to his chest. He let out a cry, feeling so bloody pathetic for allowing them to see him like that.~~After the war, Percy spends his first Christmas back at the Burrow, despite feeling like he didn't belong there. He finds more than he anticipated; love, forgiveness, and holiday cheerTwo shot
Relationships: Percy Weasley & Harry Potter, Percy Weasley & Weasley Family
Comments: 6
Kudos: 124





	1. Christmas Eve

He didn’t deserve to be there. 

The thought had been on his mind since his dad brought up the subject- albeit tentatively, uncertain to whether he was going to up and disappear again-eyes burning into Percy’s, somehow conveying in his mind that his dad  _ knew _ , he knew he didn’t deserve to be there, to celebrate with everyone after what he did. 

No one was going to want him there, to spoil the holiday with his ghastly presence. His mum’s idea, most likely, with the unwavering hope that now the war was over they would all come together again, spend Christmas like they used to-or better; they were so close now, nearly all of them. Family had always been a center core for the Weasleys, now it was, impossibly,  _ closer _ . After coming so near to losing Fred, where they packed themselves in his tiny hospital room, with the walls a faint white, the corridor’s bustling as the healers tended to the injured and the only noise being his brother’s labored breathing-his mum all but demanded that Sunday dinners were going to be a regular occasion and it was vital that they attend. 

_ They don’t understand. I can’t-I can’t just go back. Not after what I’ve done.  _

He couldn’t do it; not go through an evening of forced pleasantries that were done merely out of politeness, smiles that would drop as soon as he turned his back and whispers that he wasn’t supposed to hear but were clearly at his expense. But he knew it was his own fault, his own foolishness he’d been too blinded at the time to see for what it really was. 

He’d been a coward then, ashamed by his atrocious behavior once he learned the truth, but had dug himself in too deep for him to simply climb out and go back. The excuses piled up; he didn’t think they would accept him, now wasn’t the time, it was too dangerous. He’d wanted to justify it, provide some evidence in how he hadn’t been a complete tosser like they believed him to be. But what logical person ran out on their family over a job, for a boss that he had only become acquainted with in a short time? 

And now, oh, he didn’t think he could bear it. To hear the condescending tone as they pointed out how  _ right  _ they’d been, if they bothered to acknowledge him at all. His mum could only do so much and even she, with all her mighty effort, couldn’t coerce his siblings into freely conversing with him if they were dead set against it. 

He should have brought it up, use it as a feeble reason why he shouldn’t go and stay within the confinement of his own flat’s walls, a soft tune coming from the radio, surrounded by a cold cup of tea that he’d been prone to leaving it to sit after pouring. 

He’d been a coward then and he was a coward now. 

However, approximately two days before Christmas Eve, something tugged at his heart and before he knew it, the day had arrived and he was standing mere feet away from the front door. The doorknob was the same; it seemed a miniscule thing to focus on, but it grabbed his attention, bringing back a memory of when he’d been far younger, shrieking happily and rushing to get inside as Charlie chased after him, holding onto a slimy worm he’d planned on shoving down Percy’s shirt. 

A sharp gust of wind brought him back to the present and he shivered involuntarily. The Burrow looked so quint from the outside, picturesque in how the snow thickly coated the roof, bouncing off the twinkling muggle lights his dad and, perhaps, one or more of his brothers had helped set up. It was still falling steadily, some of the flakes settling into his hair. 

The air nipped at his face. His cheeks were growing numb, his lips chapped. He should go inside, step into the warmth but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the breathtaking scenery. Had it always been that way or was it only now that he was able to properly appreciate it? 

A window on the end, peeking into a part of the house, from his spot he couldn’t see except for a couple faint shadows moving around so wildly it was if they were dancing. Percy idly wondered if they saw him, if that was why the house was so abnormally quiet or if it was all in his head. 

_ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have listened.  _

His feet were itching to run, the adrenaline building up until it fizzled away when he did nothing but stay rooted in the spot. He  _ should  _ leave, so they could have a nice holiday without him mucking it up-it was the least he could do for them. But his mum’s face came to mind, heartbroken that he abandoned them yet again. It was enough to keep him there, from doing the  _ cowardly  _ thing and running off. 

The gifts he’d picked out were safely tucked away in his front left pocket, shrunken by a charm and placed in a bright red bag that was supposed to represent the cheeriness he didn’t feel. Everything was carefully thought out, purchased with the intent of appealing to each one’s personality. He was apprehensive, if he was honest. Christmases of the past prove reason for it; he hadn’t been particularly good at buying anything they’d want. The grimace from his siblings was permanently engraved in his mind, he was sure his parents tossed his gift to the side once he was out of sight, never to be used, despite how they’d proclaimed how much they loved it. 

His hand hovered just above the doorknob, bile sliding its way up his throat. His stomach was in knots, sweat accumulating on his palms and suddenly, the air wasn’t so chilly anymore. He could go in, it was still his house, too. But it felt wrong and the harsh reminder of when he’d tried to forget he was ever a Weasley was enough to have him knocking. 

Thudding. From boots, he recognized the sound. It went on for a moment and then the door opened. His mum, wearing her Weasley sweater, hair pulled up out of her face that was flushed-from the excitement or cooking, he thought-but brightened up tremendously at the sight of him. 

“Percy,” her voice was overwhelmed with happiness, eyes shining with tears as she reached out to pull him into a fierce hug he couldn’t resist. She kept a solid grip on him, Percy’s head dropping to her shoulder where it laid, his hands gripping her sweater, swallowing back the lump that came out of nowhere. “Oh, my baby. You came.” 

Shame filled him once again. She sounded relieved, obviously anticipating on him not showing up like he’d been thinking about doing. He would have disappointed her again. When they broke apart, him standing back up to his full height, he nearly didn’t trust himself to speak. “Hi, Mum,” his smile was weak, as was he. Quickly, in what he hoped was a discreet manner, perhaps could be brushed off as exhaustion or getting the imaginary snow off his face, he rubbed at his eyes so the tears that brimmed weren’t visible. “Merry Christmas.” 

His mum made no move to hide that she was crying. “Merry Christmas, Percy,” she sniffled. “You know you could have used the floo, or just come in. You didn’t have to knock.” 

He  _ did _ . The words were on the tip of his tongue; he wanted to point out how that was only for family and he wasn’t worthy to be apart of the family. But it was Christmas. He didn’t want to ruin things already, so, instead, he simply said, “Oh.” 

Something he couldn’t decipher flashed through her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it happened. She gestured for him to come in and he did, relishing in the warmness that he felt. “I’ll take your cloak,” she was being very host-like, draping it over her arm, her finger pointing toward the living room. “Go sit down, just be mindful. The twins have been plotting again, those two.” Her voice was tinged with both exasperation and fondness. 

He half-nodded, his feet moving but his mind and body not really registering where they were going. He wanted to stay there, it was safe, secluded. Nonetheless, he wandered out to where he’d been instructed to go. 

The twins were there, sitting on the couch with Harry in the middle. His brothers wore identical smirks while Harry was looking noticeably wary-for good reason, honestly. There was a neatly wrapped present in his lap he was clearly avoiding opening, merely staring down at it as if he expected it to jump out at him with deadly claws that was going to rip out his face. 

None of them noticed Percy, too engrossed in their own little world. 

“Go on, Harry,” Fred nudged said boy with his elbow, grinning. “Open it.” 

“Yeah,” George chimed in. “We paid good money for that, you know.” 

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Harry frowned, his tongue poking at his cheek. “How do I know you haven’t done anything to do it?” 

The twins gasped, holding a hand to their chests. “Harry,” Fred said, disapprovingly, shaking his head in dismay as if the question greatly offended him, “what makes you think we’d do that? That isn’t very nice, is it, George?” 

“Not at all,” George confirmed. “You’re hurting our feelings, now.” 

Harry snorted. “Right.” With a roll of his eyes, he began to unwrap it, crushing the paper in his hand before he sat it down at his feet, a stark contrast to the way his siblings would rip it open and the paper would go flying everywhere. “Oh,” the boy said in surprise, lifting up a piece resembling a beaded bracelet. “Jewelry?” It came off as a question. 

“Oh, Harry,” George sighed. 

“So blind.” 

“You can defeat a dark lord but you can’t even tell what our gift is.” 

“ _ Which _ we spent a lot of time making.” 

“Well, what is it?” Harry interrupted their exaggerated pouting. “Looks like a bracelet, to me.” 

The twins exchanged eye rolls. “A bracelet, he says,” Fred sighed this time, as if Harry had misunderstood that, yes, one plus one  _ did  _ equal two. “Honestly.” 

George spoke up, before Harry could open his mouth again. “That is no bracelet, HarryKins.  _ That  _ is our latest invention, isn’t it, Fred?” 

“Right you are, George. Those little beads aren’t just fancy stone. Remember the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder we gave you? We’ve tweaked it a bit and now you can get like this.” 

“Just throw one of those little beads and it works like the original,” George added. “Throws off your opponent  _ and  _ it looks stylish. How’s that?” 

Impressive. Brilliant. Percy couldn’t help but feel admiration, a sense of proudness at their accomplishment. Distantly, memories floated back to him, memories where he’d scoffed arrogantly at the idea of them owning their own shop for  _ jokes  _ of all things. He’d been mildly worried how their dream was going to affect  _ him _ , if the Ministry was going to punish  _ him  _ for associating with that sort of thing. 

_ How  _ had he not known how innovative they were? 

“It’s brilliant,” Harry complimented, vocalizing what Percy was thinking. “How’d you come up with this?”

“Well, we figured the original could use some tweaking.” 

“Make it less suspicious, you know.” 

“And we thought jewelry was easy enough to conceal it. Now you can carry it around without anyone knowing.” 

“We’re thinking of coming out with a watch for any blokes that’d rather it.” 

“That’s amazing,” Harry told them, examining it closer. “So you said you just throw it and it works like before, hmm?” 

“Right,” Fred nodded. “We’d try it out, but we don’t fancy getting on Mum’s bad side today.” 

George sighed dramatically, leaning in to stage whisper in Harry’s ear, “She’s been a bit frazzled, if you can’t tell. Wants this Christmas to be perfect for some reason.” 

“Even worse now that Charlie, Bill and Fleur aren’t coming.” 

“Oh?” Harry frowned, placing the pseudo-jewelry back into the box it came from. “Why not?” 

Percy wondered that, too, as well if they were going to take notice of him. He probably should have made some noise, step out further, because right now he was huddled back, off to the side. 

_ Pathetic. I can’t even face my own brothers.  _

“Bill was called back to Egypt for something.” 

“Didn’t really hear.” 

“And Charlie had to tend to some dragon that was injured. Apparently, it caught its own foot on fire and now they’ve got to fix it.” 

“Ouch,” Harry said. 

“Looks like it’ll just be the eight of us,” Fred said and Percy thought he meant to include Hermione in that and not him because why would he? They’d barely spoken a handful of words to each other after the war ended, with Percy staying back where they didn’t see him, not feeling that it was right for him to be with everyone else, as if the events that occurred over the past couple years were nothing notable. 

“Yeah, reckon Percy’s not coming,” George said, briskly. 

Percy’s chest constricted at the tone, stomach clenching. 

_ Say something. Say it now!  _

“Actually....actually, I’m here,” he strode out, feeling his face redden when the three boys’ attention fell onto him. A mixture of surprise and something else. “Er, Merry Christmas, Fred, George, Harry.” 

Fred stood up first, so abruptly that Percy almost took a step back instinctively. His face was screwed up strangely, exhaling slowly, then lunging at Percy and wrapping his arms around him, face pressed against his shoulder. 

Percy was taken aback by the welcoming gesture, though, nonetheless, he reciprocated the action after a few seconds had passed. His head dropped down onto Fred’s face and the two brothers gripped each other as if the other was a much needed lifeline. 

Harry and George were startled by it, too. They observed the two: tentatively-in George’s case-, awkwardly-in Harry’s. 

“You came,” Fred’s voice was muffled by the fabric of Percy’s cloak and shirt. “Mum and Dad weren’t sure if you were coming. None of us were.” 

Percy didn’t have the heart to reveal the truth, that he hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to come, that he didn’t expect any of  _ this _ and that right now, his mind was running rampant with confusion. Instead, he said, “Of course, I was.” 

George jumped to his feet, slamming into them with such force they were lucky they didn’t tumble down. Percy let out a small “Oof”, placing one of his arms around George’s body. Percy couldn’t remember the last time they’d embraced like this, it’d been years, that was for sure. 

Harry watched them from the couch, still sitting, looking as though he felt he were intruding on the moment. He politely looked away, pretending to admire some of the decorations that were scattered around the room, sparing a glance at the stairs, perhaps in hope that Ron or Ginny would come down. 

“Can’t believe you came,” George mumbled and his incredulity sent a wave of guilt through Percy for causing it. He retracted from the hug, being the one that was a smidgen less affectionate than Fred, fixing Percy with a genuine smile. “Glad you did. Wouldn’t have been the same you know.” 

The words were said bashfully with a half shrug of his shoulder. The tension was slowly leaving Percy, replaced by a warmth that wasn’t  _ just  _ from escaping the cold. 

“Thank you,” Percy breathed as Fred let go of him. “Both of you. Thank you.” 

“You’ve nothing to thank us for,” Fred shrugged. “We haven’t done anything.” 

“You have,” Percy needed to insist. “You’ve done plenty.” 

“Like what?” George’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Forgiven me,” Percy said, lowly, the insecurities resurfacing. “I didn’t deserve it, I know that. But you did it anyway.” 

“You really are a knobhead, aren’t you?” Fred criticized, but it was without malice. It might even be able to have been said that he sounded like their mum-fondly exasperated. “Course we forgave you. You’re our brother.” 

“Yeah?” Percy said, because anything else wouldn’t roll off his flimsy tongue. 

“Yeah,” the twins chorused, simultaneously giving him a playful punch to the shoulder and a ruffle to his hair, making the curls go wild and in disarray. For once, he didn’t mind, merely let out a relieved laugh. 

It felt good to laugh, to share a moment with his brothers when that sort of thing hadn’t happened since they were fairly young, before they found their niche in joking and pranking. The memories of his ire toward them seemed to be distant, going farther and farther away until it he could barely see it. 

Harry chose that time to speak up. “Err, Percy,’ he said, causing the three red-head’s to look his way. “I want you to know that I’ve forgiven you, too. For everything, including the letter.” 

He’d forgotten about that; the letter in which he’d started out to congratulate Ron on becoming a Prefect, only to primly inform him that he should stray away from Harry so he wouldn’t be corrupted. He didn’t want to  _ imagine  _ how that had affected Harry, how he must have felt to know what Percy had really thought of him. 

Just as he opened his mouth to vigorously apologize, Harry must have sensed what he was going to, he waved a hand as a dismissal. “Don’t worry about it, Percy. It was years ago.” 

_ It’s not as long as you think.  _

What were they doing? Why were they and his parents doing this to him? He shouldn’t have been allowed on the property, let alone  _ inside  _ the house. He couldn’t understand it, why his parents hadn’t banished him from ever returning. Why weren’t they furious with him? Rightfully, they should have been. Filled with resentment over his behavior, over how he’d so easily distanced himself from their lives. 

They should have disregarded him like he had them. 

But they hadn't. 

They  _ hadn't  _ done that at all. 

“Uh, oh,” George shook his head. 

“We know that face,” Fred said. 

“What face?” Harry didn’t catch on. 

“Percy’s thinking again,” Fred whispered, like the mere idea was entirely frightening. He nudged his brother with his elbow. “Come off it, what’s going on in that big head of yours?” 

“You look constipated,” George was shoving his face far too close to Percy’s, breaking that line of personal space. “Is that it? We’ve got a product for that, too, you know. Course, its never been tested on people.” 

“I’m fine,” Percy refrained from laughing. It felt so good. He wanted to do it more often. With them. Like this. “Really. Everything’s great.” 

The three boys glance at him doubtfully. 

“You sure, Perce?” Fred asked, using that nickname he’d once despised. Now it was rather endearing. “Look, I know we’re not all that close like we should be, but you can talk to us. We’ll listen. Promise.” 

“Right,” George chimed in. Once again, Harry leaned back into the couch, not going to say anything when he didn’t think it was his place to do so. Percy, wistfully, thought that he should have taken the time to get to know the boy better. He’d proven to be so much than the  _ Boy-Who-Lived _ . 

“Where’s everyone else?” Percy decidedly changed the subject to a more safer topic, his hands going downward into his pockets, attempting to act casual when on the inside, the anxiety had returned. He’d momentarily forgotten about Ron and Ginny, dreading to think of how they were going to react to seeing him.

_ Pathetic. Scared of your own siblings, aren’t you?  _

His brothers shared a look. Faces showing identical concern, an unnerving expression for them. They knew, didn’t they? That he was acting pathetic? Of course, they did. They were smart. It wasn’t hard to tell. 

“Ginny’s upstairs, think she’s writing a letter,” Fred said. “Ron’s out in the shed with dad, I think.” 

“Thought he went to Diagon Alley?” George said to his twin. “Mum needed more flour.” 

“He already went.” 

“Oh,” Percy murmured. 

They lapsed into silence. Percy’s ineptness for social situations was showing through; it was easer to hide behind a book or allow someone else to do the talking than to talk when many people thought of him as pretentious and pompous. 

He was many things, but deaf wasn’t one of them. 

“I’ll, erm, go see what Mum’s doing in the kitchen,” Percy excused himself, turning on his heel but his forearm was grabbed, keeping him back. 

“Now, now. Hang on a moment, won’t you? We’ve to finish the tree before Mum goes off on us again. Perce, you can help. You were good at that, getting it all neat and stuff,” Fred said. 

“Finish the tree?” Percy just realized that the tree in the corner of the room was mostly bare-actually, it  _ was  _ completely bare. There were no lights or ornaments or any of that rather annoying tinsel that their mum kept around. “Why wasn’t it finished before now?” 

“Mum left us to do it,” Fred indicated to him and George. “Might’ve slipped out minds.” 

“I can see that,” instead of being thoroughly maddened, Percy allowed a bit of a smile to come on his face. “I take it Mum wasn’t happy?” 

“What, you didn’t hear her yelling from your flat?” Fred said, dryly. 

“Would’ve thought we’d ruined the holiday,” George snickered. “Bit ticked, she was.” 

“I’m surprised she didn’t yell at you before now,” Percy remarked, then cringed at his word choice. He didn’t intend on starting any worthless arguments. 

“So are we,” the twins chorused and he internally relaxed. 

“But,” Fred grinned mischievously. “We  _ might  _ have charmed the tree so it  _ looked  _ like it was decorated when Mum and Dad looked at it.” 

“What?” a faint hint of amusement came onto Percy. 

“I was confused,” Harry admitted with a slight laugh. Percy had almost forgotten he was there. “Mrs. Weasley kept saying Fred and George did so well but there was nothing there.” 

“I see,” Percy said, slowly. “Why did you do all that if we just charm the tree to be decorated anyway?” 

The twins shrugged. 

Percy had to chuckle. “I imagine Mum wasn’t pleased, obviously. How did she find out, anyway?” 

Fred and George shared a look that was both frustration and despair. “ _ Ron _ .” 

“Bugger can’t keep his mouth shut.” 

“ ‘What’s up with the tree?’ ” 

“Honestly, Harry, don’t know how you put up with him.” 

“S’not easy,” Harry chuckled. 

“So,” George began dramatically, “now Mum’s furious with us and said we’re to decorate the tree by hand. Which is where you come in, Perce. You can help us.” 

“Alright,” he agreed. “What are we putting on first?” He knew what needed to go on. He just didn’t want to seem like he was trying to take control; he’d let them take charge and let him help as needed. 

Harry spoke up. “The lights usually.” 

Fred pulled out lights from a box that had been underneath a table. They were all tied up and it was difficult to see where it started and ended. He and George yanked at it, trying to pull an end out, but it only made the knots tighter. Percy itched to intervene, especially at how they were going to prolong the chore if they kept it up. 

“May I?” he said. 

They sighed. 

“Be our guest,” Fred snorted as he passed it over. Percy brandished his wand, murmuring a charm and soon it became untangled, falling to the ground with one end in his hand and the other in George’s. “How did we not know about this?” Fred said to his twin. “Incredible.” 

George feighed a sniffle. “It’s almost like magic.” 

Fred and Harry laughed. 

Percy looked critically at the tree, then back at the lights in his hands. He took his end and began to wrap it around the branches, starting at the bottom, slowly working his way up, weaving it through with ease. Harry helped him when it got caught around the end of a branch, gently pulling it loose. Eventually, they reached the top and he took his wand out to finish the job. 

“What Mum doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he said. 

Next came the ornaments. It was tedious work, putting the hooks on each one and onto the tree. Not only that, but George repeatedly stabbed himself in the thumb with the sharp edges of the hooks, cursing under his breath while Fred sniggered at his expense. However, Percy stopped them mid-way, suggesting that they form some sort of an assembly to keep it officiant: Fred and Harry would place the hooks on and George and Percy would put them on the tree, making sure to distribute them evenly. 

That seemed to work. It got them going and soon enough, within ten minutes, it was complete. They’d stayed mostly quiet while they finished. Percy supposed words needn’t be exchanged. The soft tune of a Christmas melody came from the radio, floating through the air, creating a lovely atmosphere, one that you couldn’t help but feel relaxed in. 

He hummed along, body swaying slightly as he held one of the last ornaments in his hand, gazing at the tree critically, trying to figure out where he should hang it. He settled on a spot that was just above his head, smiling in satisfaction at the finished product. 

“It looks quite good, if I do say so myself,” he said to them. 

“We’ve forgotten something!” George piped up. 

Percy frowned. “What’s that?” 

“The star!” 

“Or we could use the gnome again?” Fred’s eyes sparkled at the idea.

“Err, is that a good idea?” Harry said, doubtfully. “It wasn’t very happy when we took it down.” 

“Oh, yeah,” George seemed to remember. “Bit feisty. Bloody thing tried to rip my finger off.” 

“What on Merlin’s green earth are you all talking about?” Percy was lost within the conversion. 

“Oh, we put a gnome at the top of the tree instead of the star,” Fred said, matter-of-factly. 

“After it bit Fred,” George added, he shook his head mournfully. “Some of our best work. Dress, wings and everything.” 

“Although, he could have at least smiled. He kept glaring at us,” Fred complained. 

Somehow, that didn’t surprise him. Many things stopped being so shocking when it came to Fred and George. “Perhaps that’s a good reason to use the  _ actual  _ star, this year.” 

“If we must,” Fred summoned it, flying straight into his hand. He glanced at Percy, holding it out to him. “Want to put it on?” 

“Oh, I couldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

_ Because I don’t deserve to. Because that’s for family to do and I’m not really apart of the family, because if I was, I wouldn’t have abandoned you all _

“No reason,” he shrugged, attempting to be casual. “I just...I figured one of you would like to do it.” 

“Well, we don’t,” Fred shoved it to him. “So, go on, Weatherby.” 

The nickname was accompanied with a teasing grin. Percy didn’t take any offense to it, nor did he feel any embarrassment anymore. He’d long gotten over it and had to admit it  _ was  _ a bit funny. 

“Alright, alright,” Percy didn’t have to reach too far. He was mindful not to pull too much, so as the tree itself didn’t come crashing down-that would have been a  _ disaster. _

“Out of the way, now,” Fred came beside him, brandishing his wand. “Time to light this bugger up.” 

“Be careful,” Percy advised, warily. It wasn’t that he was completely distrusting of his brothers, but the twins...they had a track record when it came to explosions, one of them being during Christmas time when they’d all been young; the roof had a giant hole and the ham their mum had prepared turned into a living breathing pig that squealed and ran around the Burrow until their dad managed to stun it. 

“Aren’t I always?” Fred beamed. 

With a swift flick, the lights shined brightly, illuminating the living room, colorful shadows bouncing off their faces and reflecting off of Harry and Percy’s glasses. It was truly a wondrous sight; memories of Christmases from the past came back to Percy. Days where things were simpler, where he’d been  _ close  _ to his family, looking forward to the holidays like any other child. 

“Brilliant,” Harry said in approval. 

“Erg, my thumb still hurts.” 

“Well, you know the spell mum uses, you ninny,” Fred shook his head. Then, he said to Percy, nudging him, “See? Didn’t burn down the house, after all. Oi, Ginny! Come take a look at this, won’t you?” 

“What?” Came Ginny’s shout from the stairs. Percy’s palms became a tiny bit sweatier, which was  _ entirely  _ ridiculous because this was his baby sister- 

“Get your bum down here to admire our hard work, Ginnikins!” George hollered. Their mum  _ did not  _ appreciate the noise; she came into the room, scolding him whilst holding onto a spoon that had been dipped into some sort of batter. 

“ _ George Fabian Weasley!  _ You needn’t yell, none of us are hard of hearing! I know you know what an indoor voice is and I expect you to use it!” 

“Sorry, Mum,” George said, cheerfully. Quite the opposite of how he was supposed to feel. “Speaking of- _ Mum _ , what do you think, hmm? And don’t worry, we used the actual star this time.” 

At the mention of  _ actual star _ , their mum let out what was a mixture between a scoff and breathy laugh. Although, after that, she looked calculatingly at the tree, almost as if she was trying to decide if she liked it or not. “This better not be another charm of yours, George. You can see it too, can’t you, Dear?” she addressed Percy. 

He couldn’t  _ begin  _ to describe the feeling that sprouted up at being referred to as  _ dear _ . For so long, it’d been a source of embarrassment because he’d been older, preparing for a long term job within the Ministry and he hadn’t wanted to be weighed down by a juvenile nickname. Now, he would have done anything to take those words back, to just  _ shake  _ himself for acting like a git. 

“Yeah,” he said after he had regained the ability to speak. Their mum was relieved. The twins feigned offence that she would even dare to ask. “Yes, Mum, it’s there. Harry and I helped.” 

“And we wanted Ginny Dearest to see it,” George chimed in. 

“Well, you don’t have to be so loud about it,” their mum wagged the spoon at him. He held up his hands in surrender. “Ginny,” she called. “Come downstairs, the boys want to show you the tree.” She went back into the kitchen, promising that dinner was going to be ready soon, so they shouldn’t go far. 

“Coming, Mum!” Her voice rang down. 

Percy felt like he had to do something,  _ anything  _ with his hands. They felt strange, as they were not attached to his body. He eventually settled for shoving them into his pockets, looking, he felt like, those oddly dressed muggles he’d seen at King’s Cross Station with their rather sour expressions, being guided by their parents when they looked like that was the  _ last  _ thing they wanted. 

Ginny’s footsteps thudded until she was at the end of the staircase. His heart thumped. His brothers-two of them, anyway-had been astonishingly happy to see him. They’d  _ hoped  _ he would show up, even though they had thought he wouldn’t. Could the same be said for his sister? She was a bit hot tempered and could easily hold a grudge if she chose to. 

She’d hugged him when he’d gotten to Hogwarts and apologized to everyone. So, that meant something,  _ didn’t it _ ? She brushed his estrangement right off, staying in his arms for the longest time. 

It was at that moment he’d looked at his sister,  _ really  _ looked at her. He was gone when she’d blossomed into a young woman. When he left, she was just a little girl-the same child who would toddle around the Burrow in search of someone to read her Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump. Now, she was older. She’d fought in a war  _ and won _ . She held a more mature air to her and it sent an ache to Percy’s heart at how much he’d missed-time he would never get back. 

“Percy!” Ginny’s face broke out into a wide grin. 

“He came,” Fred informed her, before she could make the unneeded observation, slapping Percy on the shoulder. 

Percy wore a guarded expression, attempting to appear friendly, inviting. “Hello Ginny,” he said, quietly. 

“Does Dad know you’re here?” Ginny said. “He’ll be happy. He was hoping you’d come, you know. He and Mum weren’t sure if you were.” 

Another reminder of how he’d hurt them. The smile he’d plastered on felt tighter, bordering on painful. “Well, here I am,” he said with awkwardness that he would have liked not to have been as evident as he was sure it was. 

Ginny’s attention turned to the tree, the reason why she’d come down. She looked at it with pursed lips. “It  _ is  _ decorated this time, isn’t it? Or is this another charm by Fred and George?” 

The twins protested at this supposed injustice. 

“One time,” Fred said, mournfully. “One time and they keep bringing it up.” 

Ginny snorted. 

Their mum poked her head in. “Kids, food’s ready! Oh, can one of you go fetch your father and Ron from the shed?” 

“Sure, Mum,” Ginny maneuvered around them, heading out the front door. 

When he got there, Percy gave the table a once over; a beautiful bouquet of flowers sat in the middle, placed an equally attractive vase-red, for the occasion. The plates were set and so were the dishes, kept hot with a Warming Charm.

“This looks great, Mum,” Fred complimented. “I’m starved.” 

Their mum preened at the praise. “Oh, thank you, Dear. I changed up the menu a bit this time, tried to incorporate a few muggle dishes at your father’s request.” 

“Ahh, and everything looks splendid, does it not?” Their dad said as he came through. Ron was with him and threw Percy a surprised look as he sat down. They were all doing that, apparently. “Molly, Darling, Ginny’s just told me the most interesting thing. Is it true, Darling, that Percy’s here?” Percy wasn’t sure if his dad hadn’t seen him yet or was waiting for Percy to reveal himself on his own. 

Percy nearly forgot how to breathe. He hadn’t been looking forward to seeing his dad - they had only spoken a few times since the war ended, with a fair share of awkwardness that ended the conversation as quickly as it started. Percy didn’t think he could face his dad. 

_ Coward! You’re a bloody coward!  _

He decided to act. 

“Yes, Dad,” Percy’s eyes diverted when his dad met them. “I’m here.” 

His dad should have said nothing to him, not acknowledged him and went on to eat dinner. He should have made Percy feel what he had put them through. It was the right thing to do. Not for the lower half of his face to wobble, as if holding back a cry, approaching Percy and hugging him. 

Percy choked up. It was wrong, all of this. Why had they been so happy to see him? No, no,  _ no _ . 

But it felt so good. His dad’s hand was on his head and the other on his back. He used to feel safe being huddled in his dad’s strong arms, going to him for refuge after experiencing a nightmare. His dad used to let him sit on his lap, gripping a fistful of his shirt. He would sit there a while until he was alright again and his dad never made a fuss if it took a few hours for that to happen, disrupting his sleep. 

Perhaps that was what was going on now; Percy had woken up from the nightmare he’d been living,  _ craving  _ the comfort his dad used to give so freely. 

“It’s good to see you,” his dad whispered. “I’m glad you came-we’re all glad.” 

“Me too,” Percy breathed. 

His dad squeezed him. Percy could have never left if that was an option. When he did pull away, his eyes were moistened, but this time he didn’t hastily wipe them away. Everyone else already down except for them, he didn’t so much as move an inch, but then his dad placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Percy,” he said, softly. 

He did, he sat in the same spot he’d always sat in. It was at the end of the table, beside the twins. His legs were crossed at the ankles, body cramped because he was trying not to let any part of him touch anything-or anyone. He knew he was being foolish; this was his family, for Merlin’s sake! They were no strangers. Albeit, by all means, he did  _ feel  _ like a stranger. Unintentionally, or perhaps intentionally, alienated. 

His mum made the remark that she was  _ so glad  _ to have most of her children home. She’d meant no harm by it, merely trying to convey how happy she was. 

So, why did it make him feel so bad? 

His family and Harry chatted pleasently amongst themselves. Harry and Ron were going to Auror training which they found to be more difficult than fighting You-Know-Who himself. The twins’ joke shop was flourishing, especially with the brand new You-Know-Who themed products. Ginny had returned home from Hogwarts to celebrate the holidays, adding that the newly remodeled castle looked great and that they even hired a competent Defense professor. 

All the while that the conversation was flowing, Percy felt like there was some sort of invisible barrier that was somehow muffling things, making them sound like they were a great distance away. He didn’t even realize that his mum had been asking him a question until Fred’s elbow hit his side. His head snapped up, he’d been gazing aimlessly at his plate, to see his mum’s smile faltering. 

“Yes?” his voice went up in pitch a smidgen. “Err, sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” 

“That’s quite alright,” his mum said, warmly. “I was wondering how work was going? I know you’re fixing things with Kingsley, great man, he is.” 

Percy nodded. 

“Are you getting enough sleep, Dear? You’re looking worn.” 

“I’m fine,” he said, automatically. “You don’t have to worry, Mum. I’m fine. Work’s fine. Everything’s fine.” 

“Percy,” his dad started, hesitantly. His parents exchanged a look, filling his stomach with uneasiness. “I-Kingsley asked me if everything was right alright with you.” 

Alarm bells went off in Percy’s head. “Did he?” he said, weakly. 

“He said you’ve been a bit...anxious the past few days. He wondered if everything was okay and if you needed some time off,” his dad said, carefully like he was walking on eggshells around a wild animal that could go ballistic at any given moment.

That was how they saw him: a wild animal. 

_ Good going! Now you’re boss is concerned. You’re going to get fired now. And you’ll have no place to live and it’ll be all your fault because you’re bloody pathetic _

“Oh,” Percy’s voice was barely above a whisper, somehow managing to keep the tremor out. 

“Percy, if there’s anything going on, you know you can tell us,” his dad was trying to be reassuring. He tried,  _ he tried _ , but Percy couldn’t decipher if it was because he genuinely wanted to or if it was just an obligation as a father. 

“Nothing is wrong,” he put on his best smile, hoping it would be convincing enough. “Everything’s fine.” 

“That’s bollocks,” Ginny muttered from her spot, crossing her arms. 

“ _ Ginevra! _ ” 

‘Well, it is!” Ginny said, defensively. “Look at him, Mum,” she pointed to Percy. “He looks exhausted and has hardly said a word to us! He looks like a scared rabbit, sitting there like that. How can you just believe that he’s alright?” 

His sister’s raised voice sent a silence that loomed over them. His parents guiltily shared another look, as did Fred and George. As for Percy, it took all that he had not to leap up and make a run for it. Now they were aware of his incompetence. Now they knew that he’d been struggling at the one place he wasn’t ever  _ supposed  _ to struggle at.  _ Now  _ they could see him for what he was. 

A failure. 

A traitor who was getting what he really deserved. 

“I should go,” he stood to his feet clumsily, pushing his chair in a little too hard, the glasses clinking, nearly falling over. “I should go. Here, I’ll give you all your gifts now. Merry Christmas.” He threw the bag he’d shrunken onto the table and turned around, eyes closing at the protests of his family met his ears. 

“Oh, Percy, don’t go!” 

“Now, son, let’s not be too hasty...” 

“Come on, Perce, it’s okay.” 

“Oh, Percy,” his mum had gotten up, quickly grabbing onto his arm before he could dart out the door and apparate away. He paused, stiffending up at her touch. “Please stay, Dear. It wouldn’t feel right to celebrate without you. We would  _ all  _ miss you” 

She was pleading, her voice sounding as though she was on the verge of weeping. 

_ That’s nice, upsetting your Mum like that . Some son you are  _

“Please consider it,” she said as a last minute attempt. 

_ I should go  _

_ They don’t want me here  _

_ I’m only going to ruin everything  _

_ It’s true, you ruin everything you touch  _

Percy turned back around to face her with tears glistening in his eyes. “Oh, Percy,” his mum said, softly and wasted no time in embracing him. He bent down slightly, dropping his head onto her shoulder, gripping her like he had as a child. 

“Mum,” he choked up, the emotions that he’d been keeping bottled up finally overflowing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.  _ I’m so sorry  _ I’m ruining everything.” 

His mum squeezed him, rocking him a bit like she used to do him and his siblings when they were little. “Oh, hush now,” she scolded, but it was hardly with the usual amount of vigor. “You are doing no such thing.” 

_ Then why do I feel like it?  _

His dad spoke up. Unbeknownst to Percy, he looked troubled by his son’s words. “Why do you think you’re ruining the holiday, Percy?” 

Ginny was going to say something, but a shake of the head from both Fred and George kept her from doing so. 

Percy mumbled unintelligibly into his mum’s shoulder. She rubbed what she could of his back. “You’ll have to speak up, Dear. Didn’t quite catch that.” 

He extracted himself from her, now able to see the  _ concern  _ on her face and the uncertainty from everyone else. His face  _ flamed _ as embarrassment flooded through him at having that miniature breakdown in front of them. Godric, they must have thought he belonged in St. Mungos. 

“I don’t deserve to be here,” he mumbled. 

“What? What did you-” 

“ _ I don’t deserve to be here! _ ” 

He didn’t even realize that he was trembling, or that his mum’s hand had flown to her mouth, or that his dad bowed head his, or that his siblings looked almost emotionless. Percy crumbled to the floor, his face buried in his palms and his knees pulled up to his chest. He let out a cry, feeling so bloody  _ pathetic  _ for allowing them to see him like that. 

Once she recovered from her shock, his mum knelt down beside him; she held him in her arms and kissed the top of his head like she used to do when he was a child. She murmured soothing things, or, things that  _ had  _ been soothing at one time. Percy openly  _ sobbed _ as she threaded her fingers through his curls. 

“There, there,” it was obvious she didn’t know  _ where  _ to begin, what the correct thing was to say-if there was a correct way, that is. “It’s alright. Let it out, there you go.” 

His dad got out of his chair, coming down on his knees to be beside them as well. He placed a hand on Percy’s back, perhaps for stability, perhaps as a comforting gesture. Percy had to close his eyes, not man enough to face him like that again. 

“What did that mean, Percy, that you don’t deserve to be here? What’s all that about?” 

“You know you’re always welcome here,” His mum added. 

_ Am I? You may say that, but that doesn’t mean it’s true  _

He shook his head vigorously. “No, no, no,” he was repeating that chant like a toddler, like a child that was being defiant. He was being defiant, wasn’t he? “No, no,  _ no _ .”

“Son, you’re not making much sense.”

“I don’t feel like I am,” he finally choked out. 

_ Because it doesn’t matter how much they say they forgive you or everything is alright now. You’re still a traitor. You still walked out on them over a bloody job  _

“What?” his mum sounded crushed. Distressed. Stricken by how honest he was; they’d wanted that, for him to be honest, to bridge the gap between them and fix the severed ties. How much honesty did they want, though? “Why not?” 

For the second time, Percy removed himself from her arms, his eyes bright red, teary and puffy. “I’m a traitor. It doesn’t matter that I’ve already aplogized, because it doesn’t feel like it’s enough! I don’t understand why you’ve wanted me to come. I don’t deserve to be here, not after I’ve treated you all. I can’t figure out why you’ve been so nice to me when you shouldn’t have ever wanted me back in the first place!” 

He exhaled shakily. It felt good to get that off his chest, however it wasn’t in the circumstances in which he would have liked it to happen. Oh, he couldn’t even look at either of them. His gaze stayed on the floor, just  _ imagining  _ what they must have been thinking. 

_ They know you’re right, that’s what. They know they’re doing you a favor by allowing you here but they didn’t want to say it because they were being polite. You don’t deserve that either.  _

Nobody was saying anything. Did they pity him? Was  _ poor percy  _ echoing in their minds because they didn’t know if they could properly speak? He wished that they’d just scream at him, turn their backs on him. Something.  _ Anything  _ but the silence or pity. 

“Percy,” his dad whispered. 

Here it was, the confrontation. 

“Look at us.” 

He didn’t want to. Every fiber of his being was urging- _ screaming _ -for him not to listen. But their voices, so comforting and warm, made him obey. 

He met their eyes, full of sincerity and perhaps a touch of regret. His mum cupped one of his cheeks, reaching over to kiss his forehead. “Oh, Love,” she sighed. “We’re so sorry that you feel that way. We thought...we thought you knew how much we wanted you here. It wouldn’t be Christmas without you.” 

“Your mother’s right,” his dad agreed. “We invited you because you’re family.” Percy opened his mouth but never got the chance to say anything. “And that’s a  _ fact _ . It doesn’t matter what you’ve done or what you’ve said. You came back in the end and that’s all that matters.” 

His mum continued, a bit fiercely. “And I don’t want to hear anymore of this  _ traitor  _ nonsense, do you hear me, young man? You are  _ not  _ a traitor and I will not allow you to refer to yourself as such!” 

“But I am,” he instantly argued, tiredly. He wanted to sleep. “I left you all. All over some bloody job.” 

His mum didn’t even correct his language. “You came back,” she repeated what his dad said, sniffling. “That’s all that matters.” 

“You don’t  _ understand _ ,” Percy felt desperate. “I left my own  _ family _ . Why don’t you hate me? You should. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” 

There wa some shuffling and Fred came into view, having gotten out of his seat. “Oh, for the love of Merlin,” he sighed. “Perce, you can’t be so hard on yourself.” Percy furrowed his eyebrows, not comprehending. “For a smart bloke, you’re so dumb,” he mumbled and a chorus of  _ Fred _ rang out. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Look, Perce, it’s not all your fault. We weren’t completely innocent in this.” 

“Freddie’s right,” George came to stand next to his twin. “None of us would ever admit it, but after you came back we just sorta realized it.” 

“We could’ve been nicer,” Fred admitted. “Don’t think we’ve treated you decently since we were kids, and even then...” 

“Yeah,” Ginny said, with the guilt reflecting on her face. “We did tease you quite a bit. Surprised you didn’t blow up at us earlier. I would’ve, if it was me.” 

“That...that doesn’t matter,” Percy disagreed, proving that it was going to be extraordinary difficult to get through to him. “No matter what, I shouldn’t have left.” 

“ _ No _ ,” Fred agreed. “But we weren’t particularly warm and welcoming to you, either.” 

_ No, you weren’t _

“I  _ think _ ,” his dad said, with sadness in his eyes, “we all could have treated you better.” 

_ It’s fine  _ had leapt to the tip of his tongue and that that was what he was going to say when Ginny cut him off, hotly. “Don’t you even  _ dare  _ say it’s fine!”

“How did you-?” 

“You’re a wee bit predictable,” George said with a smile. Then, he sombered. “We really are sorry, Perce. Guess we didn’t know how hurtful we were being.” 

Fred bowed his head. “All those times we made fun of you, we were only joking around. George and I, we never understood why you hated it so much.” 

“If we knew...” 

“Would you really have stopped?” Percy said, bluntly, looking as dignified as one could with a tearstained face. “Would you? Or would you have thought I was being dramatic?” 

Their faces told him everything. 

Ginny punched Fred’s shoulder, looking angry. He didn’t complain or tell her off for it. 

“It’s okay,” he said, quietly. “I’m not mad at either of you anymore.” 

“But you were,” Ginny stated. 

“...I was.” 

“Well, we can’t blame you. Ron was, too,” George shrugged. 

“I’m not mad at Percy,” Ron-who hadn’t said a single word during that whole exchange-said, quickly. “I’m not,” he faced Percy and stressed it. “ _ I’m not _ , really. I...Look, I didn’t think you’d come, alright? Didn’t think you’d be comfortable ‘round us yet.” 

_ You aren’t  _

“You  _ were  _ mad,” Fred reminded him. “When Mum told us that she was inviting Percy over. You said he didn’t deserve to because he was-oi!” 

George nudged him. Fred’s head snapped over in Percy’s direction, looking a bit guilty. 

That didn’t surprise Percy in the least. He’d lived in the Burrow long enough to understood one thing: while they most certainly loved deeply, they also felt other emotions just as passionately. It wouldn’t have been shocking-or undeserving-if pictures of him had been burned to ashes in the midst of their ire when he’d initially left. 

He’d done that, after that  _ terrible  _ row. In fact, it was the picture from when they’d gone and visited Bill in Egypt. He’d sent an explosive spell to it, watching as it disintegrated right in front of his eyes. Had they done the same thing? Had they done it then repaired it before he was to arrive, assuming he would be none the wiser? 

He couldn’t blame them. 

Their parents looked at Ron in surprise. “You were mad?” Their dad said, as if that hadn’t been what he expected to hear. 

“Well, yeah,” Ron’s face reddened now that all the attention as on him. “I dunno.. I just...I was still upset over how you treated Harry.” 

“Ron, Percy’s already apologized for that,” Harry, who had been relatively silent, too, spoke up. “It’s okay. Least we can all do is forget about it.” 

“Harry’s right,” Their dad said, firmly. “We can all start anew.” 

“Yeah,” Ron muttered. “Look, Hermione talked some sense into me, okay?” 

“Could’ve done a bit more,” Ginny grumbled. 

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Ron looked mightily embarrassed. 

“We all are,” their mum said and everyone nodded. “And we intend to work on  _ all  _ of our behavior,” she sent his siblings a pointed, motherly glare to emphasize. “Isn’t that right?” 

“Right,” they agreed. 

“We hope you can forgive us, Perce,” Fred looked genuinely hopeful. Genuinely regretful. 

“Not that we deserve it,” George added. 

“Fact, you probably owe us a few hexes,” Ron said, wryly. 

“But we hope you will anyway,” Ginny smiled. “ _ Without  _ the hexes.” 

Percy let out a tearful laugh, staggering to his feet. His parents watched him cautiously. “Come here,” he told his siblings. Fred and George lunged him and just like earlier, Percy almost fell backwards, but instead of reprimanding them for it, he was laughing. Ginny wedged in between them, trying to shove one of them away so she wouldn't get squished. And as for Ron, he stepped forward, his arms opened awkwardly as if he were going to hug Percy, but seemed confused on how to do so. Percy didn’t say anything nor did he move; Ron eventually wrapped his arms around him after some internal deliberation. George rolled his eyes, menuvering to let his younger brother have some more room, muttering about something that Percy didn’t catch. 

Percy looked over at the boy that had been sitting in his seat the entire time, apparently feeling a bit awkward to  _ intrude  _ on their family moment again. “You, too, Harry,” he called with an actual smile. Harry wasn’t as awkward as Ron was, but he also wasn’t overly affectionate either. He complied, though. 

“Thank you,” Percy whispered to them all, giving them a gentle squeeze. 

"Didn't we tell you not to say that?" Fred scolded, wagging a finger at him as they let go. 

"Sorry,” Percy said, wearing a half smile. 

Percy’s heart had never been fuller. Their parents watched on, admiring the scene in front of them.  _ Thrilled  _ that things were starting to become different. It would take a while; Percy knew it wouldn’t happen right away, that they’d all have their moments of regression. But they’d said their peace. 

They spent the rest of the meal eating happily after it was heated up again, laughing. Percy glanced around the room contentedly as Ginny was telling everyone a rather amusing story about the new Defense professor, when he’d accidentally let some frogs loose, while using them as a demonstration. 

For the first time in a long time, he had a good feeling about this; about his family. 


	2. Chapter 2

Percy went to sleep that night feeling lighter than he had in years. The worry and fear that he’d carried around with him for months had just _lifted away_. It melted right off of him as soon as his siblings had joined him in a hug. And as he was squeezed and patted on the shoulder afterwards, with their faces contorted in an encouraging grin--or something akin to embarrassment in Ron’s case--he realized that this was what he’d wanted most of all during his youth: acceptance. 

Over and over, whether by his own family or others, Percy heard most often that he wasn’t _anything_ like them. It was difficult to brush it off when he’d began to _feel like it_ , to become aware that despite there being seven of them, he never felt like he fit in anywhere. The rest of them had talents he could never achieve. So, he went elsewhere to find his own, where he could fit in with everyone else, without having his differences being shoved back into his face repeatedly. 

Last night, once they all finished eating their dinner, the whole family and Harry sat around by the fire, staying up until the wee hours of the morning. They talked about anything and everything. Percy was an active participant, adding in his own stories or comments. The warm laughter that had haunted his dreams at times was back and it’d felt so _nice_ to feel like he was apart of the family again. 

His one true desire was occurring right before his eyes. Ever since he first came to beg for their forgiveness, he’d wanted nothing more than for things to turn around in the right direction, to get itself on the mend. Percy made an internal vow that he was going to do everything within his power to ensure that it would stay that way and keep going. 

He’d long decided to push his pride aside. That moment was vivid; he’d been alone in his office one night, shuffling through paperwork when that _pang_ of heartache hit him worse than ever. Even in the midst of wanting to push _them_ to the side, he couldn’t. It wasn’t worth it anymore. Not even if he was offered the job of Minister for Magic. Not even if it was the most prestigious job in the world. None of that mattered anymore. His family was the most precious thing to him now, the way it should have been in the first place. He wasn’t going to make that same mistake again of getting caught up in all the wrong things. 

That was a promise. 

Even with how late it was when Percy’s head hit the pillow and he drifted off to sleep, he awoke rather early. The sun was just coming up over the horizon and the birds were chirping cheerfully to one another just outside his window. Perhaps it was in the spirit of the holidays or mere restlessness that kept him from enjoying a few more moments of his slumber. Or, and this was far more accurate, it might have had to do with pounding feet that zoomed past his doorway. 

Percy groaned good-naturedly. Trust Fred and George not to let up even despite the holidays. They’d rushed past, making so much unnecessary noise and hollering that it was Christmas and that they needed to get up _now_. Honestly, they all should of been grateful that the twins hadn’t used any of their products during their little stunt. 

Still, as anyone would be, he’d been rather startled by the unexpected awakening, his heart thumping wildly when he jerked up until he became aware of his surroundings, relaxing a smidgen now that he knew he wasn’t being ambushed by any Death Eaters. 

_The twins might wish they were attacked by Death Eaters once Mum gets through with them_

Oh, they were going to be in for it now. Their mum had a set morning routine, one that she’d never strayed from since Percy could remember; she liked to enjoy the serneness of the morning before everyone else woke up, humming a soft, soothing tune. She would be seen cooking, typically so much that it could fit an entire table at Hogwarts, whilst sipping on a cup of tea. 

She would _not_ appreciate her quiet time being interrupted. 

No doubt she ws going to be a bit peeved. Percy couldn’t hide that wry grin, imagining his mum enjoying the peacefulness, then suddenly benign ripped away from it and jumping to her feet to scold the twins for disrupting and not acting their age. Although, by now, their antics were no surprise. She might even be resigned to them, but not enough that she wouldn’t yell at them for it. 

_“Fred, George!”_ He heard their mum say, shrilly. _“Now you let everyone sleep! I don’t want to have anyone cranky because of you, two!”_

_“Aww, Mum!”_

Percy chuckled as he reached for his glasses. He’d chosen to go back to his old bedroom to sleep in. The room where he’d found solstice in when Ron and Ginny decided he was no longer _fun_ , as they preferred the company of the twins better. The room where he’d hidden in the corner, burying himself in a thick book with his then oversized glasses hanging down by his nose as he eagerly absorbed all the words that were before him. The room where he’d given a confident, yet apprehensive once over before he departed to Hogwarts for his first year. The room where he’d stormed into after that dreadful row with his dad, packing only the essentials and apparating away without a second thought. 

_You were selfish_

_You only cared about your feelings_

_Well, what about theirs?_

_Think it was nice, leaving your family like that?_

_They probably cried_

_All because of you_

He winced when his bare feet touched the chilly floor. His slippers were left at his flat and due to when he’d gone to bed, it never occurred to him to conjure up new ones. Really, exhaustion had washed over him once he made it to his room and he promptly curled up after whisking away the clothes he’d worn and making them into pajamas instead. 

His bedroom was mostly bare of any belongings. Back in the summer, he came to retrieve the rest of his things that he’d left, except for a few discarded books that were on his bookcase. He read those numerous times in pastime as a child. 

He traced a finger over one of the binders of a book he’d read and reread to the point that, combined with the rough handling by the twins, it was starting to come apart. A faint smile came on his lips, remembering those fond days of his childhood. He was pleasantly surprised that his mum hadn’t gotten rid of them. 

For his own safety, Percy stuck his head out to cautiously glance both ways down the hallway, should his brothers come barreling down it again, not wanting to get caught in a collision. When he saw that everything was clear, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. His mum and the twins were already there. She was placing some piping hot sausages onto Fred and George’s plate, sternly instructing them _not_ to do anything else _and_ if they tried to spike Harry’s drink again, there would be consequences.

He made a mental note to not let his own beverage out of his sight. 

“Yes, Mum,” they chorused, exchanging identical smirks. Percy knew they were up to something, a bit of holiday mischief that they’d most likely been planning on for ages. 

“I’m serious you two,” she gave them both that stern, mother look that she was infamous for. She pursed her lips at them, before her eyes descended on where Percy stood just outside of the room, sheepishly rubbing his forearm. “Oh, Percy. Good morning, Dear,” she said, warmly. 

“Morning, Mum,” he said, shyly. 

“Did you sleep well?” She was grabbing a plate for him, filling it with assorted foods. Warily, he eyed it as it became a small mountain right in front of him. He suspected that she thought of him as being _much too thin_ , and was certain on fattening him up as much as could while he was there. 

“Yes,” he nodded, taking a seat in the same spot he’d sat at during dinner. He thanked her when she sat his plate down. 

“Must have,” George snickered beside him, playfully nudging Percy on the shoulder. “Snored loud enough.” 

Fred laughed as well. 

“I do not snore,” Percy protested.

George patted him on the knee in a you’ll-learn-soon-enough sort of way. “Oh, you do. Worse than Ron. Actually, Ron’s probably worse. I feel for Harry, sharing a dorm with him and all. How he sleeps is an utter miracle, I tell you.” 

Their mum simply shook her head. “Honestly, George. Be nice to your brother.” 

“I was,” George insisted. “I could’ve mentioned how he tried to inhale the drapes once _but I didn’t_.” 

Fred sniggered and Percy rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Not sure why you’re surprised, Mum. Everyone knows Georgie, here, can’t be nice if his life depended on it.” 

“Says _you_.” 

“Oh, hush,” she ordered. 

“This is really good, Mum,” Percy said after he’d taken a bite. He’d missed his mum’s home cooked meals. He was decent at it, sure, having picked up some skill from observing her and taking part on a few occasions himself, but it wasn’t anything compared to how she made things. 

“Thank you, Percy,” she beamed at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head and a warmth blossomed in his chest. 

“Is no one else awake yet?” he asked, making idle conversation as he cut his eggs up into smaller pieces. 

“Miraculously no,” their mum responded, shooting Fred and George a less than pleased expression. They smiled innocently--or, attempted to. “We’ll give them a couple more hours.” 

“Aw Mum,” Fred complained. “Why wait?” 

“Yeah. We never wait this long.” 

That much was true. Sleep mattered to the Weasleys every other day except for Christmas. They’d wake at the crack of dawn, donning their Weasley sweater over their pajamas, eagerly awaiting to open their presents and dig into the feast their mum has prepared. It was simply unheard of _not to_. 

“You’ll open them when we say and I don’t want to hear another word,” she told them firmly. 

“Mum,” Percy said after some hesitation, “where’s dad? Is he still sleeping?” 

“Hmm? Oh, no. Your father’s already up, he’s in that shed of his doing Merlin know’s what. He went out there early this morning.” 

_I need to talk to him_ , he realized. _As awkward as that might be_. 

He knew his dad forgave him, sparing no hard feelings toward Percy for anything he’d said or done, but his son felt that something more should be done. Once he’d grown older, closer to when he was to leave for Hogwarts, things between him and his parents hadn’t been the same. They hadn’t been as close, with Percy feeling much too old to be bonding with his parents; thus, their relationship suffered, him and his dad’s especially. 

It was impossible to take back all the hurtful things he said a few years ago in the middle of his ire. No matter what, he couldn’t just forget the way his dad’s face had clouded with incredulity and the _pain_ of what his son had said without a care. Every once and a while, the memories of that night came back to him in his most vulnerable hours, when he lay tossing and turning in bed or by chance of him spotting his dad at work where he would send Percy a smile--of one that conveyed clear cautiousness.

His stomach would twist to the point that nausea crippled him, an overwhelming desire to hide or drop down to his knees in front of his dad to beg for forgiveness, dignity be gone. What was he to do now? Now that they’d gotten most of the thickness out of the air. His dad would say nothing, being far too merciful for Percy’s taste. He’d never be able to convince the man otherwise--no one had to guess as to where Percy and his siblings got their stubbornness from. 

“ _Mum_ ,” Ron said in a winging tone, appearing at the doorway. “Tell Ginny she can’t hog the bathroom. It’s not fair that she’s Harry and me wait.” 

Their mum sighed. 

“Actually,” Ginny slid by a dumbstruck Ron, shooting him a sweet smile. “It’s just you. Harry’s in there now.” 

Ron was doing a fabulous impression of a gaping fish. His gaze flickering between Ginny and back over his shoulder at nothing.“Wha--but.... _mum_!” 

Their mum put her hands on her hips. “Honestly, you two. Ronnie, can’t you act your age? You can use the bathroom after Harry gets done.” 

“But, Mum-” 

“No buts,” she told him. “Sit down and have some breakfast.” 

“Yeah, Ronnie,” Fred snickered. 

“Do as you’re told,” George wagged his finger at him like a disappointed mother, doing a terribly _accurate_ impression of their mum. 

A chuckle escaped from Percy, who couldn’t hold back his amusement. 

“Hang on,” Fred said with a hand to his chest. 

“Did we just-” George looked to his twin. 

“I do believe we did.” 

“We just made Percy laugh,” they finished together with a dramatic gasp. 

“Oh, shut up,” Percy blushed, but he was still grinning. 

“You’ve never laughed at something we’ve said,” George pointed out. 

Percy shrugged. “You’ve never been funny.” 

The twins gasped, and George, being closer to him, reached out a hand to tickle Percy’s side in retaliation. Percy yelped, having not expected it, and he squirmed to try and get away from the horrible sensations. Unfortunately for him, Ginny raced over to provide her assistance in and wrapped her arms around her older brother to effectively trap him. Poor Percy was stuck in dealing with George tickling him and being unable to move because of Ginny--which, if he’d of tried hard enough, he probably could have gotten himself free. However, there was concern that he’d end up hurting her if he did, so stayed put. 

“Hehehe _Mum_! Stopppp them!” 

“Not until you say we’re funny,” George declared. 

“Noooooo!” His laughter went up a notch when his brother began using both of his hands. 

“Seems he’s chosen the hard way, then,” George shook his head mournfully. 

“Georrrrrge,” Percy was pleading with him through his laughter. 

“I forgot how ticklish he was,” Fred remarked. 

“Worse than Ron, that’s for sure,” Ginny added in. 

Ron’s face reddened. “Shut up,” he mumbled. 

Percy was beginning to become breathless; luckily for him, perhaps unlucky for his siblings, their mum put a stop to it. “Alright, now. Let Percy go. Poor Dear is starting to get all red.” 

“Aww,” the twins pouted. 

George pulled his hands away from Percy’s body and Ginny released her hold on him. Percy took the opportunity to inhale a big gulp of air. He didn’t say _anything_ to anyone while he also drank some juice to quince his dry mouth. 

His siblings watched him cautiously, as if waiting for an explosion to occur. “You aren’t mad at us, are you, Percy?” Ginny asked, frowning, misunderstanding his silence as a signal that his mood had soured. 

“Yeah, Perce, we were just messing around,” George tried. 

“Oh, I know,” Percy said, calmly. “And I hope you are aware that I _will_ be getting you back.” 

George’s frown turned into a broad grin. “I’d like to see you try,” he said, challengingly. 

“Yeah,” Fred chimed in. Then, to his twin, he said, “I bet he’s bluffing.” 

“You’ll see, then, won’t you?” Percy said, cryptically as he returned to his food with an air of mystery. 

“Oooooh,” the twins chorused. “Percy’s got a dark side.” 

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either, Ginny,” Percy told his sister when she began rubbing it in their faces that he would be after them and she wasn’t going to help them. “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten you were restraining me.” 

He smirked. 

Playfulness was dancing in her eyes--it’d been a long time since they interacted like that with each other. If there ever _was_ a time when they’d been like that. He couldn’t remember. “Well, _I_ agree with Fred; I don’t think you will,” she taunted. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Ginny said, confidently. 

“You just wait, then,” Percy spoke with a sense of mischief that hadn’t been around in years. 

Ginny didn’t have a retort. “You should get Ron, too,” she said. “Can’t leave him out.” 

Ron’s expression was priceless. “What’d I do?” 

“Existed,” Ginny and the twins deadpanned. 

Their mum looked on with disapproval. Then, she said, “Ginny, is Harry in the shower?” 

“I dunno, Mum.” 

She hummed. “I ought to put a warming charm on his plate. The poor dear needs to eat more. He’s-” 

“Much too thin?” Fred offered. 

The silence that came from their mum indicated that was _exactly_ what she’d been going to say. 

“Say, Gin,” George said. “Care to give us a hint as to what our present might be?” 

“No,” she said, simply. 

“Oh, come on, Gin. Humor us. We’re curious.” 

“Too bad,” she said, flatly. “You can wait like everyone else.” 

“It better be good,” Fred said. 

“Yeah. Not like that bobbly thing that Ron got us one year.” 

“It was a _bobble head_ and Hermione said you might like it,” Ron said, embarrassed. 

At the mention of her name, the twins began making kissy faces. 

Hermione wasn’t at the Burrow this year to celebrate. In the midst of everything going on, Percy honestly hadn’t noticed her absence until it was time to head off to bed. 

_Percy frowned as he surveyed the room once everyone had gotten up to go to their respective rooms._

_“Ron,” he caught up with his brother at the top of the stairs. “Where’s Hermione? I thought she was staying with us?”_

_“Oh,” Ron seemed surprised at the question. Probably because it was so delayed. “She’s with her parents. She said she’ll visit us on Boxing Day.”_

“Mum! Make them stop!” 

“You kids,” she looked one more complaint away from brandishing her wand and using a silencing charm on all of them. “Settle down, all of you.” 

Percy decided the best thing would be to finish his breakfast without contributing to the overall chaos. The twins and Ginny went on to harass Ron about Hermione, while he just listened. Once he was done, he went back upstairs to brush his teeth, put on some clean clothes and grabbed a jumper off the end of his bed. 

“I’m going to see Dad,” he said to his mum on his way out. “I won’t be long.” 

“Alright, sweetheart,” she smiled up at him. “Do try to get him in eventually. I’ve no idea what he’s up to but I’m sure it can be done another day.” 

“Yes, Mum.” 

The snow was crunching underneath his shoes. He shivered, crossing his arms over his chest as he made the distance from the house to the shed. The jumper he’d grabbed didn’t feel nearly as warm enough now, not with the wind blowing worse than yesterday. It was going right through the fabric, biting at his skin. When he made it to the shed, he halted at the door. 

Should he knock? Call for his dad to see if he was there despite knowing that he was? Walk in without an invention? 

Oh, how silly he was being. This wasn’t some stranger he was being forced to interact with. This was his own _dad_. 

So why did his relationship feel more of that to something else? 

_Because of you_

_It’s your fault_

_You did this_

_If it wasn’t for you and your pride and ego, things would be different_

He could well handle being around his dad when others were with them; he wouldn’t feel solely responsible for the silence that was inevitably going to ensue. But when it was just the two of them, it was another other matter. And he hated how it was their reality. 

Still, he straightened up his posture, summoning all of his Gryffindor bravery and knocked on the door as he opened it and stuck his head in. On the other side of the room was his dad. He hadn’t heard his son come in at first. He was seated, but not working on some muggle trinket that he’d acquired from work or was given. Rather, his attention was on the photo album he was holding, flipping through the pages slowly with a fond, yet pained sort of smile. 

“Dad?” Percy tried again. 

This time, he did hear him. He met his son’s eyes, immediately setting the object down onto the work table. “Percy,” his dad looked quite happy at the interruption.

“Hi, Dad,” Percy said, bashfully, his gaze going down to his feet. “May....May I come in?” 

His dad readily accepted. “Yes, yes. Of course. Come right in and have a seat.” He was wanting him to sit on the stool that was beside him. He did, walking over slowly as if giving his dad time in case he was to regret his offer. “I thought you would still be sleeping.” 

He looked curiously at Percy. 

“Yes, well, I had a bit of an interruption.” 

His dad understood at what he was hinting at. “The twins?” he said, knowingly. 

“The twins,” Percy affirmed, chuckling, dispelling some of the awkwardness and nervousness he’d felt. 

“Ah, I see. And what did they do this time?” 

Percy told him. His dad shook his head, laughing. “Oh, those two. I take it your mother wasn’t happy?” 

“Not at all,” Percy agreed. 

They lapsed into silence. 

“So, er, what’re you looking at?” he asked, casually, despite not needing to. He was trying. Making conversation. Making an effort. 

“Memories,” his dad’s voice was light, like he was a great distance away. He lifted up the album so Percy could take a gander at it. Right in the middle of the page, there was a picture of Percy, Bill and Charlie. They were all much younger, with childhood innocence and spirit. Charlie had Percy in a headlock, rubbing the palm of his hand on his younger brother’s head, messing up his hair terribly. Percy was laughing, trying to wiggle away. Bill wasn’t that far from them, yelling something that Percy couldn’t tell just by the photograph. Probably egging Charlie on. 

“You were so small as a child,” his dad seemed like he was speaking more to himself than he was to Percy. Even so, his son listened attentively to every word. “Your mum and I were concerned that you weren’t going to grow very tall. Seems that was for nothing, wasn’t it?” he said while sparing a glance at Percy’s lanky frame. 

“I remember that day,” Percy remarked, leaning over his dad’s shoulder to take in the picture better. “Charlie used to pick me up and hold me upside down all the time when he wasn’t keen on messing up my hair.” 

And if it wasn’t Charlie doing it, it was Bill. His eldest brother used to snatch him up and throw him over his shoulder. Percy would whoop in delight. That was before he’d become too heavy and embarrassed by affection from his family. 

“Yes,” his dad was smiling. “Charlie had a way of bothering everyone, didn’t he? I do remember a time when he surprised your mother by charming his stuffed dragon to breathe fire.” 

Percy laughed, too. 

Their mum had been caught _way_ off guard and her shriek of _Charlie_ echoed throughout the house. Percy hadn’t ever seen her face so red; although the twins had come close at times. 

His dad flipped to another page. There Percy was at five years old; he was sitting on the couch, holding Ginny when she was an infant. He wore a proud grin as she curiously grabbed ahold of his finger. 

Another turn of the pages. 

Percy was helping his mum feed the twins, trying to spoon some mushy substance into one of their mouths. 

Another. 

He was curled up on the couch, sleeping. His arm was covering his face and he was still wearing his Hogwarts robes. He reckoned he was about fourteen or fifteen. 

Another. 

He was standing with Charlie and Bill just before they were to board the train. Their mum had ushered them to huddle close because she wanted a picture for the occasion. Percy was the only one who was cooperating. Bill was flicking Charlie on the back of the head, so Charlie was elbowing him in the stomach. 

And _another_. 

One that was taken by his mum. He and his dad were sitting in the shed, in fact. He was in his dad’s lap, while he was being shown a muggle toy. His eyes were full of wonder and he was beaming. 

Those pictures. All of them. They all included _him_ somehow. 

“They’re all of me,” he murmured, looking to his dad. 

His dad’s chair shifted, so he could better look at Percy. “This is your album. Your mum and I thought it would be nice to have an album dedicated to each one of you. Plenty of baby pictures for when you get a girlfriend.” 

The light teasing made him smile, unable to contain it. 

“Unless you happened to have a lady friend _now_?” his dad said, interestedly. 

“Oh, no,” Percy denied, truthfully. “Definitely not. Someday. Just...just not now. I...I don’t think I’m ready yet.” 

“Of course,” his dad nodded. “Well, when you’re ready, I wouldn’t mind--if _you_ don’t mind--giving you any advice like I did with Bill and Charlie. If you’re alright with that, of course.” 

He was trying not to slip up. Trying to give Percy his space but also wishing to be included. He was doing his very best not to overstep any boundaries. 

“I’d like that,” Percy said, quietly. 

His dad’s hand clasped his own, giving it a squeeze. 

“Son?” 

“Yes?” 

His dad seemed to struggle with his words. “You know I’ve always been proud of you, haven’t you?” 

“Of course,” Percy said, but it didn’t sound convincing to his own ears. 

“I am,” his dad said, firmly. “I...I _have_ been.” 

“Even when I started working at the Ministry?” Percy dared to look at his dad’s face. 

“Yes,” his dad said, simply, taking Percy aback. 

“But I thought? You never...”   
“I was upset,” his dad admitted. “I’d always dreamed of you working alongside me, so when you didn’t, I thought you were embarrassed by me.” 

“I was,” Percy confessed and he hated to say it out loud. “A bit. I just...I just wanted to do my own thing. I felt like I was appreciated by Crouch and Fudge. I thought they were...” he trailed of. 

“Proud of you,” his dad finished for him. 

“Yes,” he lowered his head in shame. “I finally felt like I fit in. I never felt that way here.” 

“But why?” His dad looked so lost. “How could you ever think that?” 

“ _Because_ everyone excels at what I don’t. Bill was good at school and popular. Charlie played quidditch. The twins have their pranks; Ron’s best friend is Harry Potter and Ginny is much more outgoing than I ever was!” 

He let go of his dad’s hands, getting up to pace around in the shed’s limited space, arms moving around as he emphasized what he was saying. Then, he crossed them. Percy yearned to come up with something meaningful to say in that moment. Anything to convey how properly _sorry_ he was and how he was willing to to do _anything_ to mend the broken bridge between them. 

He just couldn’t. 

His dad was looking over at him, waiting patiently for him to get the words out. To say something, _anything_ . But his mind suddenly felt jumbled and _nothing_ seemed right. “I felt lost. After our row. I...I what I mean to say is....I’ve, erm, I’ve given it a lot of thought and...” he just couldn’t get it right. He’d rehearsed in his mind some simple lines of what he was supposed to say but words failed him. 

“Percy,” his dad’s tone was soft and soothing. “You don’t have to say anything, son. Your mother and I told you it was okay last night, didn’t we? What more is there to say?” 

_So much more_

_You don’t understand_

_I’m trying to make it all better_

_Please just let me_

“Enough,” he managed to keep his voice steady. His eyes were pleading with his dad just to hear him out, to let him get it all off his chest. “Please. Just listen. I...I have to say it. I’ve got to.” 

He ended the sentence with a whisper, sounding as broken as he felt. 

Bless his dad, who picked up on the seriousness of it all. “Alright, son,” he was whispering, too, giving his hand another tight squeeze. “Go on. Say what you need to say.” 

Percy gathered his bearings, trying to slow down his mind so he could put together coherent sentences. “After our row,” he tried again, slower this time, “I felt lost. I was angry. I didn’t want to think you were right--even though you were. No one seemed to care about _my_ feelings; they just wanted a chance to point out how I’d been wrong. I was just tired of it. I was tired of feeling hurt and unloved.” 

A shadow of some kind of emotion passed over his dad’s face. “You didn’t feel loved? Not at all?” 

“How could I have?” Percy said it without any animosity. “When the twins wouldn’t leave me alone, Ron and Ginny wanted nothing to do with me and you and Mum seemed too busy about everything else to care about my accomplishments?” 

“But never mind that,” Percy abruptly inhaled, rather sharply, as if that was supposed to get him back on track of what he was supposed to be discussing. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I said, but I hope you know that if I could, I would do it in an instant.” 

His dad was rising from the chair. “Oh, Percy...” 

“I’m still trying to forgive myself,” he let out what was a cross between a humorless laugh and a sob. “It’s just so _hard_. I let my ambition take over and I hurt everyone. Most importantly, Dad, I...I hurt you.” 

He was taken into his dad’s strong arms, practically collapsing within them. Percy’s face was pressed into his shoulder, his breathing becoming shuddered. “Oh, my son,” his dad murmured. “There, there.” 

“I’m sorry,” Percy’s voice was barely audible. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m _so bloody sorry_ for how I acted. I just....I want everything to be alright again, but I just don’t know what to _do_!” 

His voice reverberated off the walls. 

“I know,” and that was all his dad needed to say. “I know you are, Percy. I’m sorry as well. We’ve both made mistakes.” 

“I wanna....I....I want to fix this. Us. Somehow.” 

“You’re already fixing it,” his dad said, tenderly. 

Percy gripped the sides of his jumper. “I love you, Dad,” his voice was quieter now. A mere whisper. 

“I love you, too, Percy,” his dad whispered into his ear. 

~~

They didn’t know how long they’d stayed there, standing in the middle of the shed in that tight embrace. The world had simply stopped, time had stood still and all that could process in his mind was how _good_ it felt to have his dad hold him again. 

When they let go, his eyes were misty but he was smiling the widest he had in years. He took off his glasses to wipe them. The ache that had been nagging him had evaporated and just like the relief he’d felt from last night, he felt like he could finally breathe again. 

“Alright there, Percy?” 

“Yes,” he nodded, sniffling some. 

His dad clasped a hand on his shoulder. “What’s say we go back inside, shall we? I’m sure your mum and everyone else are eager to get a move on with today’s activities.”

With his dad’s arm around his shoulders, he and Percy went back into the house, where everyone else was up, dressed and--in the case of the twins and Ron--waiting rather impatiently. 

“Finally!” Fred and George exclaimed. 

“We thought we were gonna have to come get you.” 

“By force if necessary.” 

“We’re not really picky on how we do it.” 

“Well, we’re here now,” his dad said to everyone. “Who’s going to open first?” 

They were in the living room; his parents were on the couch, holding hands, Ginny was one of the armchairs with her feet tucked underneath of her, as were Ron and Harry. The twins and Percy sat on the floor. 

“Oh! I’ve nearly forgotten!” their mum rushed off towards upstairs and came back down with everyone’s jumper in her arms. She began to hand them out one by one. Percy’s was a bright shade of blue with a large _P_ in the middle. His fingers softly caressed the material, cherishing that he was given another one after what he’d done instead of being rightfully denied. 

He took his glasses off, pulling the jumper over his head and pushed it down, then put his glasses back on and adjusted them just right. Once everyone had put their respective jumper on, they were finally ready to begin opening presents. 

“Alright, who’s going first?” their dad asked. 

“Me!” 

“You went first last time, Ron!” 

“Yeah! We want our turn!” 

“Then let Harry go!” 

“Oh, erm, it’s fine. I don’t care...” 

“How about,” their dad’s voice rose his siblings, causing them to quiet down, “Percy goes, eh?” He looked toward his son, as if silently asking for permission. “Is that alright with you?” 

Percy’s face reddened when the attention fell onto him. “Oh, yes. That’s, erm, fine.” His dad went to pick out one of them for him, pausing when he spoke again. “It’s just that...I wasn’t expecting anything this year.” 

“What?” his mum’s face looked crushed. “How could you have thought we wouldn’t get you anything?” 

“Well-” he faltered. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He was only being honest. “I just didn’t think anyone would think of me.” 

That admission made things _worse_. “Of course we thought of you,” his dad was stricken with guilt--of which, Percy couldn’t figure out why. “You’re our son. We would never do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” he looked down, only to glance up at everyone in the room. “I don’t want to upset anyone.” 

“We’re not upset,” Ginny said thorough he wasn’t so certain by the way her face was looking. As if, just their dad, she was racked with guilt. But that made no sense because if anything, _he_ should be the one to feel that way. “Not with _you_.” 

“Then who?” 

“Ourselves,” Ron mumbled. 

Percy was baffled. “But you shouldn’t,” he argued. 

“And you shouldn’t, either,” Fred countered. “Didn’t we already agree last night that we’re both at fault?” 

“Yes, but-” 

“But what? No offence, Perce, but you stay like this forever.” 

“Like what, exactly?” he asked, stiffly. 

He was waiting for some snide remark. Something mocking. Anything that was going to take them back several steps. 

But it never came. 

His younger brother shifted. “You know, like this,” he gestured. “All nervous. Even Ginny wasn’t as bad when Harry first came over.” 

“Remember when her elbow went in the butter dish?” George chimed in, sniggering. 

Ron burst out laughing whilst Ginny glowered at him. Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable. 

“George Weasley, you said you’d never bring that up again!” 

“I suppose I lied,” George said, cheerfully. 

Fred leaned in to whisper in Percy’s ear. “Think we can split up George’s gifts between ourselves. Looks like he won’t be needing them” He pointed over to where Ginny had leaped on her older brother’s back and was wrestling with him. Their dad was trying to pull them apart and their mum was scolding them for their behavior. 

“I suppose,” Percy’s smile was only halfhearted. 

Fred sighed. “What’s it gonna take for you to get back to normal? Well, as normal as a ministry loving, family disowning, power hungry moron can be.” He wasn’t annoyed, wasn’t sounding fed-up. He was genuinely curious, if a bit worried. 

“I don’t know,” Percy admitted, keeping his gaze on the chaos that was still going on in front of them. “I keep telling myself things are different now, I felt like they were. I woke up happy for the first time in years. But things just don’t feel the same.”

Fred frowned. 

“I told dad I haven’t forgiven myself,” he sighed. “I know you all keep telling me you have and I’m grateful for it. But I can’t forgive myself for everything I’ve done. I’ve made terrible mistakes.” 

“We all have,” Fred shrugged. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. It might shock you, but George and I aren’t perfect.” 

Percy rolled his eyes with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. 

“I know, shocking. I can’t believe I said the words, myself. But it had to be done,” Fred said with an air of a sacrifice made by a war hero. Then he sobered up. “Look, I really don’t know what to tell you, Perce, but you’ve got to forget about all that. Everyone’s moved on. You’re still our brother, no matter what.” 

“Even though I basically disowned you all?” Percy said, glumly. 

“Even then,” Fred patted him on the back. 

“Thanks, Fred,” Percy said, weakly. “I know I haven’t told you enough, but I love you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Fred playfully shoved him. “No need to get all mushy on us. And just so you know, between you and me, you may be the favorite if Ron’s gifts for George and I are as bad as we think they are.” 

“What if mine aren’t much better?” Percy smiled, this time it was more genuine. 

“Can’t be much worse than a bobbly head.” 

“Sit,” their dad ordered Ginny. “And don’t attack your brother again.” 

George was rubbing his neck. “I think she broke something. What if I go to bed tonight and never wake up? You’ll feel guilty,” he told Ginny. 

“Wanna bet?” she retorted. 

Their mum faceplamed. Their dad looked tired. “Percy, would you please open something?” 

Percy glanced at the bundle of gifts that were sitting under the tree. “What should I open first?” He pointed toward one that was the nearest. “This one?” 

“That’s George and I’s,” Fred said. 

“I suppose I can start with this-” 

“Actually,” Fred disagreed. “Wait until last.” 

“The very last,” George said. “After everyone’s done.” 

“If you insist,” Percy blinked. 

“Open mine!” That was from Ginny. She was pointing at the one wrapped in red gift wrapping. “You’ll love it.” 

“I’m sure I will,” Percy said, warmly. He wasn’t as fast with tearing open the paper as his siblings would have liked him to be. They exchanged looks of exasperation. 

When the paper was pulled away, his heart gave a leap. It was a framed photograph from when they’d been much younger. Ginny must not have been more than five years old; she was sitting on top of Percy’s shoulder, beaming toothily and leaning down to hug him from behind. Picture Percy glanced his head up, puffing out his cheeks, causing his sister to giggle. 

“Oh, Gin,” Percy was touched by the sentimental gift. “Where did you find this?” 

“Mum and Dad,” Ginny said. “They have a whole album of pictures I’ve never seen before.” 

“Thank you,” he loved it. Absolutely adored it. 

“You really like it?” 

“Love it,” he assured her. 

He went through several more things; a bundle of assorted sweets from his mum, from his dad there were tickets for his favorite quidditch team (“I wasn’t sure if you’d be around for it,” his dad admitted. “But I’d hoped you would be,”); a lengthy, seven part book series called _The Chronicals of Narnia_ from Ron (“Hermione suggested it,” he said, growing red when the twins _awwed_ ) and a stationery from Harry, in Gryffindor colors, no less. 

He thanked each giver profusely. It was all unexpected, most of all from Harry. He didn’t consider that the boy would be willing to do anything for him after the rift that had come between them--not that there’d been much _initially_ , as he was more a friend to Ron than anyone else’s. But he had. An inkling told him that the stationery was a last minute decision, as Harry most likely didn’t know the extent of Percy’s interests. 

Regardless, it was most appreciated. 

“I ought to show you all yours now. My little bag is around here somewhere,” Percy hummed, eyes skimming over where all of the presents were placed. 

“Right here,” George tossed it over to him, as it was still shrunken to miniature size. “I hope it’s good.” 

“You should be grateful, no matter what it is,” their mum scolded. 

Percy took out all of the bags contents, placing it on the other side of him. It was a generous heaping. With all of the work he’d done to help the Ministry and what was given as a bonus by Kingsley to all of the workers who had stayed during the rein of You-Know-Who and his followers. It gave him the opportunity to indulge in some rather satisfying shopping that he hadn’t been able to do before, which might have been another act of desperation on his part. He’d hoped by buying the right things, things that they would very much like, it would be another way of winning them over, as he most certainly didn’t think they would be adamant on earnestly forgiving him so soon. 

The eyes of his family and Harry went as big as supper plates when he kept pulling out things. Embarrassment washed over him, as did the feeling of self-consciousness. His face flamed pink, and for the first time, he wished he would have put a limit on his list. 

“Whoa,” that rather articulate whisper came from Ron. 

His dad recovered first. “That’s quite a lot of gifts, son. That’s very kind of you.” 

Percy ducked his head. “Erm, well. I might have overdid it a tad.” 

“I’ll say,” George muttered to Fred. “Boy, is this what Malfoy sees at Holidays?” 

Percy began distributing the gifts. He needed to do it, to busy himself and not sit there like some useless log. “If...if you don’t like anything, you’re welcome to return it.” 

He felt his dad tug on one of his curls. “Absolutely not,” he said, firmly. “There will be no returning anything. You took plenty of time, it seems, to buy all of these nice things and we’re going to enjoy them.” 

There was a chorus of unanimous agreement. 

While the family and Harry began to open up their packages, Percy took the lid off of his container of sweets, opting for a piece of delicious looking and wonderfully creamy fudge. It melted right on his tongue. 

“No _way_ !” Ginny had tore open her present, holding up a _Weird Sisters_ t-shirt. There were a few different types, all of which had been on the racks. He’d decided, after spending five minutes at the display, deliberating on which she’d like best, to just get them all. 

“Look, Harry!” Ron excitedly showed him the newest _Chudley Cannons_ poster he now owned. His youngest brother had been fairly easy. All of his were _Cannons_ merchandise. “This is brilliant! What’d you get?” he asked offhandedly. 

“Erm,” Harry, like Percy, had been watching everyone else. Percy had gone more down a path of practicality, also from not knowing the boy quite as closely as Ron did. He was given a wand holster, a handful of books that would be useful when he began Auror training and a large quantity of treacle tart--that much he did know. He could vaguely recall during his time at Hogwarts when Harry would help himself to the dessert at every chance he got. 

“Oh,” Harry was surprised. “Thanks, Percy.” 

“Do you like it?” Percy’s tone was laced with the smallest hint of anxiety. “I wasn’t sure if you would. I know you aren’t particularly _fond_ of reading, but I thought those might help you.” 

“It’s great,” Harry said, honestly. “Really. I like it.” 

Percy relaxed. 

His siblings and Harry swiveled their eyes over to where their parents were. They’d not yet opened anything and now they couldn’t put it off any longer. “Oh, is our turn?” their dad said, happily. “Well, this is very exciting.” 

Their mum unwrapped one of hers first. “Oh, Dear,” she held up a bright red jumper with the words _Best Mum_ in the middle. He realized now that it was going to clash terribly with her hair, but she wouldn’t mind, he thought-- _hoped_. “This is wonderful. Wherever did you find this?” 

“There’s a new shop in Diagon Alley,” he mentioned. “A whole shop for jumpers. It’s nice. There’s one for you, too, Dad-” he slapped a hand over his mouth, feeling upset with himself for spoiling one of the gifts. 

“So there is,” their dad wasn’t upset. He held up his own _Best Dad_ jumper in admiration. “This is very nice, son. Thank you.” 

“Yes,” their mum agreed, as she reached over to pat his cheek lovingly. “Thank you, love.” 

He couldn’t refrain from beaming. 

His parents were thankful for the rest of the things they’d received, idly remarking that they didn’t know where they were going to put it all. And once all of that was over, Percy had intended on taking out his wand to help pick up all the excess paper, but he’d forgotten all about Fred and George’s gifts for him.

“What about ours?” they cried. 

“Oh,” he was startled. “Right.” He began to reach for it when a thought occurred to him. “It’s not going to explode on me, is it?” 

“No,” Fred pretended to back away and get behind George. “ _Definitely_ not.” 

“Just be thankful it’s not a bobbly head,” George added. 

Ron groaned. 

“Would you two let that _go_?” 

They looked to each other and shrugged. “Nah,” they said. 

“Go on, Perce!” 

“Open it up already!” 

“Yeah, we’re growing old, waiting for you!” 

“Fine, fine,” Percy carefully tore off the paper. It was nice wrapping, no need to waste it. He expected a book; that was what he was often given. However, that wasn’t what he received. 

It was a collar. 

A bright blue one. And it was _tiny_. 

“Thank you?” Percy said, confused. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

Fred stood, stretching. “Stay here. Be right back.” 

“And close your eyes,” George instructed. 

“George-” 

“Close them!” George screeched. Ron, Ginny and Harry covered their ears. 

Percy complied warily. 

“I’m still not certain as to why this is necessary,” he said. 

“You will in a moment.” 

He heard Fred’s footsteps, instinctively braced himself, but his apprehension turned to curiosity when he felt something fluffy get placed in his lap. His eyes shot open, and he stared, jaw dropped, at the sight of the kitten that was staring back up at him with wonder. 

“You got me a cat,” he said, disbelievingly. 

“Nothing gets past you, eh?” Fred grinned. 

“No wonder you were Prefect.” 

“You got me a _cat_ ,” Percy repeated, unable to quite believe it just yet. 

It was positively _tiny_ , the perfect size for it’s coller. It was a boy; brown and white fur and yellow eyes. He was purring, rubbing against Percy’s stomach. The redhead’s heart warmed and he used the back of one of his fingers to caress the feline’s cheek. 

Percy was utterly speechless. “How...why....you.. _thank you_. Thank you, both. This is...I’ve always wanted a cat.” 

“You have?” His parents were genuinely surprised by his statement. 

“We thought you wanted an owl,” his dad said. “That’s why you got Hermes.” 

Percy shrugged unsurely. “I love Hermes. He’s a wonderful companion and I didn’t mind getting an owl, but I would have preferred a cat.” 

“Then why didn’t you get one?” his dad asked, trying to understand. 

“I didn’t think we could afford it,” Percy admitted. “And I didn’t want to ask.” 

“Did you two know?” their mum addressed the twins. “That Percy wanted a cat?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Weatherby, here, mentioned it before.” 

“Long time ago. Back when Fred and I were just a miniature version of the angels that you see before you.” 

Percy chuckled, but he was also a bit touched that they’d remembered. _He_ couldn’t even remember saying it to them.

Ginny scoffed. 

“But you didn’t even know I was coming,” Percy furrowed his eyebrows. 

“So?” 

“What if I didn’t show up?” 

“We’d send him through the mail,” Fred shrugged. 

“Who knows, he might have enjoyed it,” George said. 

“ _Fred, George_! You don’t send a kitten through the mail!” 

“But where did you get him come?” Percy asked. 

“Lee. He’s a got a cat, you know.” 

“Loads of kittens. He passed one out to the whole quidditch team.” 

“Harrykins declined.” 

“And we didn’t need one.” 

“So, just like the generous, handsome blokes we are-” They ignored Ginny’s scoff. “We decided to give him to you.”

Percy smiled softly. “Thank you.” The kitten squeakily meowed. “Do you happen to know his name?” 

“Doesn’t have one yet,” Fred said. 

“Course, if you want our opinion-” 

“Who would?” Ginny snorted. 

“We’d be honored if you name him after ourselves.” 

“For our most generous gift giving, of course.” 

“Don’t listen to them, Percy,” their mum ordered. “You can name your kitten anything you want.” 

“Sure, sure. But Fred ii has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” 

“Actually,” George piped up. “I quite like Geo, myself.” 

“What do you think, son?” their dad said. 

Percy brought the kitten closer to his face, nose crinkling up in delight when it licked his nose with its scratchy tongue. “I _think_ ,” he thought about it, observing how the feline was turning its head every which way to get a good glimpse of the room and everyone in it. “I think I’m going to name him Ranger.” 

“Ranger?” the room echoed. 

“Fred Ranger, right?” Fred joked. “Or Ranger Fred?” 

“He’s curious,” Percy explained his choice, while ignoring his brother, which made him pout. “He keeps looking around. I don’t know, I thought it was clever.” 

“It’s very nice,” their mum reassured him. 

“Not the best name, but it’ll do,” George said, sighing dramatically. 

~~

Ranger turned out to be Percy’s most favorite gift he got. 

His attention zeroed in on the feline, cooing at it and grinning as it playfully nipped at his finger. At one point, Ranger climbed up on his shoulder, rubbing the side of his face on Percy, purring loudly and contentedly. They played and snuggled for an hour or two and he was a bit saddened when Ranger curled up for a nap. 

Don’t know about you lot, but I’m getting quite bored just sitting around,” Fred said to them as he stretched and sat up, for he’d been laying on his back since they’d finished opening gifts. “I say we go outside and have ourselves a little fun.”

“What sort of fun?” Harry said, suspiciously. 

“Oh, Harry. You wound me. Nothing serious. Just a little snowball fight to tame our restless spirits. What’d you say, you lot? You in?” 

“Alright,” George, unsurprisingly, was the first to agree. 

“Long as you don’t shove it down my shirt again, fine,” Harry muttered and the twins grinned. 

“Fine,” Ron eventually agreed. “But I’m on Harry’s team.” 

“Seems we should get Ginny,” George noted to Fred. 

“Quite right, brother of mine,” Fred went on to holler for their sister. 

“What?” Gunny had gone back up to her room and came down wearing one of the t-shirts that Percy had gotten for her. 

“Care to engage in our snowball fight?” 

“Alright. But I’ll sick a bat boogey hex on you if you shove snow down my shirt again,” she threatened. 

Her older brothers exhcnaged amused glances. 

“How about you, Perce?” 

All eyes were on him. For the first time in a long while, the twins were looking to him with genuine hopefulness. They _actually_ wanted him to join in. Since coming back in, he hadn’t planned on going back out; not after benign exposed to the frigid temperature. 

The twins let out a whoop. 

And that was how Percy found himself sitting directly behind a magically drawn up snow bank with Fred and Ginny sitting beside him. He was sure that his hands were going numb, despite the gloves he wore and his cheeks were aching. 

But he was also having _so much_ fun. 

Once he let his guard down, telling himself that their request for him joining wasn’t for another of their pranks, he remembered what it was like to play in the snow as a child, before everything got so serious. 

From across the yard, Harry, Ron and George pelted their snowballs at their bank. Fred had been bent over, now was gathering up a few more balls, preparing to jump up and retaliate. “Wait,” Percy said, yanking on his brother’s pants. Fred paused, glancing down. “You’ll get killed doing that. Why don’t I help? We can both get them if we go at the same time.” 

“Genius,” Fred said and Percy didn’t think he ever heard that, other than in a mocking way. “I like the way you think.” 

“And Ginny,” he turned to his sister. “You go attack Harry. Knock him down if you can get in a bit of a run. 

Fred snickered. “Ruthless.” 

“Got it,” Ginny nodded.

“Oh my lead,” Percy said, just before they ambushed the two. “One, two, _three!_ ” Fred let out a defeaneing battle cry as they jumped out of either side of the bank. His brother lunged at Ron while Ginny went--successfully--for Harry. 

As for Percy, he hadn’t forgotten his promise he’d made to both Ginny and George. But for now, he’d attend to George. “Oh, George,” he called, grinning wickedly. 

Whatever his brother had been saying was muffled the snowballs that hit him directly in the face. Percy threw multiple of them at his brother. He was nearly out when he leaned too far forward, accidentally falling onto George, whom let out an _oof_. They fell to the ground, with most of Percy’s body weight on him. Percy rolled off him, laying directly on the cold, wet ground. 

“Fred!” George wailed. “Help me! Percy’s heavy! I think I broke something-oi!” 

Percy put a handful of snow right on George’s face, making sure to really rub it in. “Oops,” he said, impishly. “ _So_ sorry.” 

“I don’t think you are.” 

“I’m not.” 

His brother flicked some back. So did Percy. And again, so did George and now they were involved in some kind of mini fight between them, nether wanting to be the first to give up. “Apologize!” Percy got on top of his brother to straddle him. Laughter was bubbling to the surface, out of Percy’s throat in a way that hadn’t happened for a long time. “You called me fat, so say you’re sorry! Say it!” 

“Did not!” George shot back, doing a horrible job of ducking out of the way. “I called you _heavy_!”

“Fat,” Percy corrected, not letting up, “you practically called me fat and because of that, you _will_ suffer the consequences.” His eyes were sparkling with mischievousness. 

They wrestled around for a few moments-and _Merlin_ , Percy had forgotten how much _fun_ it was to let loose and mess around instead of slipping into that role of a dedicated Ministry worker, where he had to keep up a serious attitude. This was far more enjoyable and momentarily, the anxiety, the thoughts that had contolled him since receiving his invitation to join them-it all went away. 

And this, it was unlike him. His past self, back when he’d been stuck up with a permitent stick up his bum, wouldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t have agreed to come out, much less whatever _this_ was he was doing with George. 

Did they notice that, too? Could they see a difference in how he acted? He was sure they did. They’d have to be daft not to; and one thing was for sure, none of them were daft. 

George thrashed beneath him, trying his hardest to wiggle out from Percy’s grip, his efforts in vein as the red-head was physically stronger, despite being what his mother would deem to be far too thin. 

“So,” Percy drawled, unable to suppress the grin that was tugging at his lips, pinning his brother down with his hands pressed into the younger boy’s forearms, “are you going to apologize? Don’t think I’ve forgotten about this morning.” 

“Never!” George hollered. 

Still keeping a firm grip and using his knees to help, Percy messed up his brother’s hair, using both of his hands to make it stick up at odd ends

“That the--best you got!” George managed to get out. 

“Oh, no. I have a better way of getting my revenge,” Percy smiled innocently. He wasted no time in tickling any spot of his brother’s that he could reach. George made a noise between a whine and a squeak and wrathed beneath him, trying his hardest to escape. “And by the way, you’re not funny.” 

“S-s-screw _you_!” George laughed. 

Percy smiled cheekily, ruffling his hair before jumping to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go find out sister.” 

Ginny shrieked happily, running as fast as she could to get away from him. 

They all stayed outside until their mum stuck her head out to inform them that it was lunch time. By then, they were tired and cold and hungry. They piled into the house, the happiest they’d ever been in _years_. 

And later that evening, when the sun had gone downand the family hovered by the fire place as it crackled, with Ranger laying in his lap and he simply listened to the calm voices of everyone, Percy thought he really couldn’t have asked for more. 

Fred turned away from his conversation with George and Ron to tap him on the shoulder. “Glad you came?” 

“I am,” he affirmed as he gently pet Ranger. “I really am.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this! Even though it took me until now to finish it lol if you have any Percy related requests, comment and I might be able to do it!


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